King and Queen
by Gigantisch Romantisch
Summary: In the Russian version of the show, Herbert (Kirill Gordeev) dances with King Ludwig II (Rostislav Kolpakov). Those two seem honestly to be very fond of each other, which begged for a fic about how they'd met.


He looks every bit as handsome as I remember. Even his tousled hair and musty clothes don't take away from his royalty. Hidden in the shadows behind the parapets I stare down at the graveyard, filled with a mixture of excitement and revulsion.  
Slowly, almost gingerly he stretches, paying the vampires crawling from their graves around him no attention. His strong fingers brush earth from the velvet sleeve and he puts his crown straight on his auburn curls. Then, without wavering, he tilts his chin and bores his eyes into mine.  
My body feels as if my heartbeat quickens and I swallow hard.  
Barely visible under his moustache the corners of his mouth curl up and he nods curtly before turning away and strutting down the path to the main gate.  
It is going to be his first ball, and it is going to be perfect. Without any words I had promised him that when I held him in my arms, trembling, wet and naked as the day he was born, forty-odd years ago.  
_I'd met him before, but he had been barely more than a boy, however beautiful. I contemplated him briefly, but Father had warned me not to meddle with royalty. He was not amused when I pointed out there were more high-born vampires in our backyard than there were commoners. All the more reason to leave the boy alone, he decided.  
Despite his age the young man piqued my interest, though I wasn't sure how or why at that time. I did heed father's warning and silenced my hunger with a stable boy instead; if only to not let this trip, too, end in cold silence or lectures.  
Over the years I visited his castles, wandered through the beautifully decorated halls and chambers, unseen by any but my meals and not even they noticed what was coming for them. He was never there, however, and I did not see him again until I went for an evening stroll during one of my trips abroad and heard agitated voices. Curious, I stalked closer.  
An older fellow was talking sternly to a beautiful man in the prime of his life, who happened to be taking his clothes off on the bank of the lake. Moonlight sucked the color out of the scene and it was like observing a mildly disturbing dream.  
"Please, your grace, I beg of you..."  
"I can't live like this anymore," the younger man replied, stepping out of his boots. "I have always been free - living in this cage like the Emperor's nightingale is slowly killing me. I am only going to speed up the process." He unbuttoned his pants and yanked them down his long, skinny legs. The tails of his shirt hid anything above the knees.  
"You are out of your mind; you cannot make rational decisions in this state!" The older gentleman proceeded to grab the other's wrist.  
"Let me go," his grace insisted. "It is not my life anymore!" He tore free from the older man's feeble grip and splashed into the water, wading away from his companion while taking off his shirt. Life had been good to him up to a point, but he looked gaunt, as if he'd lost some weight rapidly, perhaps due to sickness. I recoiled from the memento of mortality, but the unfolding situation drew me closer again.  
"My king..." The desperation was evident and it started to annoy me. Words would never help. Only actions counted.  
The man in the water froze, one arm still caught in his shirt, then slowly turned around. "I am not a king anymore."  
The defeat in his voice sent chills down my spine and involuntarily I stepped forward, out of the shadows. Now I knew who he was: The former King of Bayern, Ludwig the second. There my knowledge ended - I had not kept up with his current affairs. Abdicated, thought unfit for ruling, overthrown … Whatever it was that had brought him here, it had taken all his will to exist.  
The desolation and wistfulness still hung in the air after he'd fallen silent and I waded through it like he waded further out into the lake. I knew a better way to ease his sorrow than drowning himself, and I was hungry. Hungry enough to leave the last shreds of cover and get out in the open, fangs already extending.  
The older man unceremoniously splashed after him, reaching out in a last desperate attempt, but when he suddenly caught sight of me he tripped and disappeared under the surface with a gargling gasp.  
Ludwig didn't look back and just rid himself of his shirt. His back was so smooth I wanted to dig my nails into his skin.  
I matched each unwavering step into deeper waters, keeping my eyes fixed upon his form. He still hadn't noticed me - perhaps he never would, until it was too late. Would he welcome me like he was intent on welcoming the watery death he was seeking out? Did I even care?  
For a moment my strides faltered, changing to a different rhythm than his when I realized that I did. Not much, but more than usual. Agitated I pushed forward through the water, leaving my confusion behind in the wake._  
The wind picks up, icy fingers plucking uselessly at my flesh. This year I decided that crimson is in vogue and I hope Father followed my advice. It is always so nice to show we're family through our dress. Surely we are the only ones making an effort each year.  
Down below in the graveyard the older vampires scamper around with stiff joints, clad in the costumes they wore when they were reborn into this existence. My king in the only exception, since he had been as naked as the day he was born.  
A smile pulls at my lips now the poesy of it fully dawns on me. I will have to tell him soon, I am certain he will appreciate it as much as I do. After all, the poetry section in the library was the second to fall under his hungry gaze when he had depleted all the fairy tales.  
When even the last geezer, barely younger than Father, has made her way into the castle, I turn and leave the winter wind's futile attempts to deter me behind on the tower. This is going to be brilliant. No doubt about that.  
_Ludwig had stopped. He looked down, his shoulders rounded as if carrying a huge weight. He took a deep breath, straightened his back and as I reached out to him, he plunged forward into the cold dark waters.  
In an instant he was hidden from view, gone for the entire world. Annoyance washed over me and I dove after him. I hadn't ruined my clothes in this filthy lake to go back ashore with an empty stomach!  
The moonlight didn't penetrate the waters and I groped around as blindly as a mole under the earth. Someone as set on dying as he was would surely breathe in the water to hasten its devastating effect. As an immortal being I hadn't felt the pressure of time like this in a long, long while.  
Skin touched my fingers and I grasped in a reflex, not caring what part of his body it was. He jerked in my grip when my nails gained purchase in his flesh and I kicked off, breaking through the surface with him.  
He wrestled weakly, spluttering and couching, already losing consciousness. Without hesitation I plunged my teeth in his throat. Blood exploded into my mouth, his panic pounding away in a rapid rhythm trying to save his life. It was more than I could take and swallow and it dripped down my chin, hot blood mixing with cold water.  
A hand on my face, not pushing me away but holding me closer, feeble but strong enough for lack of my resistance. I pulled back in time to see his eyes breaking in the moonlight. Without using words I promised him that this was a better fate than ending up on the bottom of a lake.  
When he died, I let go of his body. It sank under the surface again, the pale shape slowly drifting back to shore. I followed it, my body pulsing, his taste still in my mouth. I would wait with him, for him to wake up to his new life.  
Darkness descended when heavy rainclouds hid the moon. Sitting on a large stone, chilled to the bone in my wet clothes without feeling it, I stared at his naked body. It didn't do much to change my mood, not like it would have done before I changed, but I appreciated it all the same. So vulnerable, and yet nothing could harm it now.  
In my mind I could hear father's stern lecture. Why hadn't I killed him after I fed, why another brother to our ever expanding family? Why would I condemn a soul to our bleak, hungry existence?_  
I wouldn't have been able to answer him if I had wanted to, and I hadn't. My choices are my own, even if I don't know why I make them.  
Poor father, I think as I make my way down to the ballroom, throwing a splendid ball every year and still complaining about bleakness and hunger. He really should get out more. Perhaps once that innkeeper's toddler comes of age he'll be interesting again.  
Voices ring through the hallways, though sighs of complaint and groans of lassitude would be more accurate a description. Standing at the grand door I wait, watching as they file around the corner. Some of the older, more bored ones snarl at me, but I ignore them, my eyes searching for the glimmer of dusty gold. There! My stomach lurches as our eyes lock and I can taste his blood in my mouth again.  
Koukol appears at my side, briefly startling me with his repulsive exterior. I understand why father chose a far from handsome assistant, but it could've been less extreme.  
"The room is ready, young master," he lisps.  
I can't get myself to answer him and only nod.  
Before I proceed to open the double doors, I make sure Ludwig is watching me. The gesture is even grander than usual and the clang of the door against the stone reverberates throughout the room.  
Candles everywhere - despite his form, Koukol knows what beauty is. The light sparkles on the sequins on my costume and glints in Ludwig's crown. I see him look around in mild disappointment and suddenly I realize that compared to his lustrously decorated castles, this old schloss must look boring and dank.  
But his lustrously decorated castles didn't have me.  
Father appears at the top of the stairs, his eyes flickering over his subjects. Counting, I know, and only his son could notice the imperceptible raise of eyebrows when the number appears to have increased by one. He doesn't look at me, but his gaze lingers on the King, who seems to finally be impressed by something.  
The impending lecture doesn't frighten me, but I vow to myself to make myself scarce until sunrise. Preferably not alone.  
The skinny old traveling salesman is frightened out of his wits and hardly worth the grand gestures father presents him with to the crowd. Barely more than a mouthful for everyone and I forego my share because he stinks. What would be the point of trying to still the hunger with something inferior if something exquisite doesn't do the job either?  
Suddenly the music starts and before I can turn to find my King, he appears next to me, bowing courteously. "May I have this dance?"  
I can't stop the smile spreading on my face and coyly lower my glance before putting my hand in his. "You, always."  
I had forgotten how nice it was to be courted.  
_The moment the rain stopped was the moment he stirred. He opened his eyes and I was there, waiting.  
"You," he breathed when his eyes had permanently adjusted to the gloom.  
I couldn't quite figure out the tone and frowned. "Had you expected anyone else, sire?"  
He winced at the word and I regretted it instantly.  
"Am I dead?" He sat up, looked down at his naked chest, further down and he covered his groin with his hands. "Are you an angel?"  
I couldn't help but chuckle. "Not quite."  
The gentle lapping of the lake caught his attention and he turned his head. "I drowned," he said matter-of-factly.  
"In a sense, yes."  
"But I am not dead. What am I then?" There was a twinge of panic in his voice, his eyes wide, staring at me wildly. Though it had been so long for me to have found myself in this exact position, I suddenly remembered the fright gripping my throat, those first hours. The newness of emotions never felt when I had been human ripping through my body, the cold fire of the hunger flaring up – it all came back to me and connected me to him in a way the exchange of bodily fluids never could.  
In a gesture that hopefully was comforting, I put my hand on his cheek. "You're a bett-" The sound of dogs, that had been at the edge of my hearing for a while now, grew louder. "Never mind. There is your search party. We should go now."  
His demeanor changed abruptly, as if he dropped an act. "No, we should not. Let them find me, let them see their king is dead. Let them regret what they did to me."  
The determined set of his jaw and the wrathful tone made my stomach tingle. I pulled myself together and nodded. "As you wish, my king." I hadn't planned on using that title again, but he seemed so naturally regal that it slipped out of me without thinking.  
He didn't react and lay back down. "Make yourself scarce, they should not find you."  
"I will come back for you." I slunk away into the shadows and left, not wanting to set off the dogs more than he already would.  
It hadn't taken long before the search party happened upon his still form. In their anguish of finding their beloved king without any signs of life they didn't notice the holes in his throat. It wouldn't take long before someone did, though.  
I hung around all day, shrouded in shadows where I could. Thick rainclouds shielded my tender skin from sunlight as I followed them to the castle.  
When they brought him to the castle's chapel I cursed my stupidity. This could prove to be more difficult than I anticipated. Well, I hadn't anticipated much, other than getting my fill, perhaps as much as not letting his beauty go to waste. I could just leave him now; let the villagers deal with it. I didn't owe him anything. He would soon learn to follow his instincts, he didn't need me.  
I had taken all of three steps when the screams began._  
Years of being at court have drawn his dancing skills close to my own centuries of experience. Every time we meet again he gazes at me intensely. Intently. Far more pleasant than the look Father gives me when we end up with each other. He doesn't say anything, not yet, but the shadows around his eyes deepen when he frowns and looks down on me austerely.  
Guilt washes over me. "I'm not sorry!" I hiss and I turn away. I never berated him for that page boy, now did I?  
"Does the count not approve of my being here?" Ludwig asks when he holds me for the waltz, both perceptive and anxious.  
"He doesn't approve of anything he doesn't do himself. And even then."  
"Perhaps I should apologize to him," he says hesitantly.  
"That will not change anything. Trust me." My arm snakes around his waist and I subtly pull him closer, until our bodies touch. A jolt of prickly energy shoots through my body and I close my eyes to savor the sensation.  
Silently he leads me through the dance. Even with my eyes closed I can feel his gaze upon my face and it starts to unnerve me. Not enough to switch partners, but almost.  
"He is a magnificent man," Ludwig says after a while, softly, almost wistfully.  
My eyes pop open in disbelief. "Thank you," I say sharply and his gaze shifts from Father to me. "I heard that."  
"Do you not agree then?" He studies me. "You are like him, you know."  
"No, I'm not. I am like my mother."  
He slowly shakes his head. "Not in how you look. In how you are."  
That is even less true and I step backwards, not wanting to pursue this subject any further. "The Baroness wants to dance with you." I leave him in the middle of the waltz and stalk away. How dare he. The past months have been so pleasant, and now this. Why is everyone always so taken with Father? It's not fair!  
_At least the priest wasn't there anymore by the time I made myself turn around and walk back. I could see him running in the distance, tripping over the hem of his cassock. No last rites for my king.  
The screaming had died down to a tortured whimpering I understood all too well. I steeled myself and jerked open the door. Crucifixes glared down on me from every angle and burned my eyes and skin like sunlight never could.  
Shielding my eyes with my arm I dashed towards the source of the moans, grabbed him around the neck and dragged him out into the blissful darkness. I sunk to my knees and tried to catch my breath, pain sloshing through my body.  
I never should have been at the lake in the first place. I should have let him drown; I should have snapped his neck after feeding on him. Nothing would have been easier to let him slip under the surface before my poison could do its work.  
I prodded him sharply in the ribs. "Get up, we have to go."  
He struggled with the sheet they put around him to shroud his nakedness. Hearing voices come closer, I lifted him in my arms and hurried to the edge of the forest. He was not going to be my undoing; I wouldn't give him that satisfaction.  
Hidden in the shadows he came back to himself. "They are after me. Why are they always after me?"  
"You did just run away from your last rites," I pointed out sarcastically.  
He didn't seem to hear me, huddling in his shroud. "I wish they would leave me alone. I wish you would leave me alone. What do you want from me?!"  
His feverish eyes burned right through mine and if I'd been breathing, he would've taken my breath away. He needed to feed; the hunger was eating him up from the inside. If they had brought him anywhere but the chapel, he would've feasted on the priest.  
"I want to save you," I said brusquely.  
"Why?"  
"Because..." I faltered, realizing how my senses had had their own agenda, one I still wasn't privy to. "Because it was not for a king."  
"I am not a king anymore!"  
I turned around, and seeing him, disheveled and wrapped in essentially an elaborate bed sheet, it was hard to disprove him. "You will be again."  
"I don't want to be," he said sulkily.  
I rolled my eyes. "Fine, then don't, see if I care. Come with me now, boy, because soon your hunger will overpower the few senses you have left and wreak havoc like you've never seen before." I grabbed his wrist and dragged the startled ex-king through the trees.  
The first and second mortal we found brought Ludwig back to his sensible self and he even understood the necessity of relieving the dead bodies of their clothes so he could get dressed. As he pulled the rough workpants over his legs, I vowed to myself I would get him a wardrobe fit for a king, whether he wanted to be one or not._  
Sulkily I lean against a pillar. The ball has lost all attraction to me and I wish it was over. I am hungry. I am lonely. All those stupid so-called brothers, all they ever do is lay in their graves being bored, despite there being so much out there to do. Just because we're dead it doesn't mean we can't live a little.  
They all look up so much to Father. If only he would enjoy his being as much as I do, they would take him for an example and we would have splendid balls every week instead of once a year. But no, somehow the magnificent count von Krolock feels he needs to suffer. He laments the loss of his humanity where I welcome it. No inhibitions, no regrets.  
Perhaps it has something to do with the death of my mother.  
Poor man. All the love I still have in my unbeating heart is for him, but right now I despise his distant haughtiness, his total unwillingness to connect to anyone. And then Ludwig says I am like him!  
_We didn't hang around to see what would happen next. Ludwig was more than done with anything that reminded him of his old life and all but ordered me to 'take him home'. Home in this case appeared to be Schloss von Krolock. Both annoyed and endeared by his erratic display of command I obeyed, taking the scenic route south through Prussia and Hungary.  
We talked a lot during the trips, though never about ourselves. He was a bottomless source of stories, fairy tales, legends and folklore. It was fascinating to see how he got wrapped up in whatever world the current saga entailed, as well as a little unsettling. I never pretended I actually knew him at all, but he seemed different with every story. Any from my attempts to get to know the real him a little better was ignored. Perhaps it was all him: The daring seaman, the little breadcrumb boy, the donkey that shat golden coins.  
One night, after we'd temporarily quenched our hunger and lay in the grass next to the dying fire of the unfortunate traveler, staring at the stars, he said, "You are the most beautiful man I have ever laid eyes on."  
The compliment came in the middle of a Grimm-tale and I didn't realize he was speaking to me, about me, until I noted the expectant silence.  
"That... I..." I flustered, genuinely flattered and even a little shy. "Thank you, sire," I finally managed. Using the title he loathed now had become a habit over the weeks and neither of us bothered to acknowledge it anymore.  
"You are welcome." He put a hand on my wrist for a second and then snatched it away as if my body was hot like the embers next to me.  
I looked aside and saw the pained expression on his handsome face.  
"It isn't right," he muttered, not to me but to himself.  
"Says who?" It was meant as a rhetorical question, but I found myself curious for his reply.  
It never came. "The wolf quickly dressed in grandmother's nightgown and took her place in bed, his paws under the blanket on his bulging belly."  
I had learned by then to not keep prodding. He would snap shut like a clamshell and not even a mention of the evil queen from the Snow White tale would draw him back out. Still it intrigued me and while he was regurgitating the story of the disobedient little girl with the horrible sense of fashion I sidled closer until my hand touched his again, almost casual in its deliberation.  
He didn't falter in his account, but I felt his body tense up, the last of his relaxation fleeing. So he really was hung up about this nameless sin. The sudden realization that he had had no qualms about killing to satisfy his insatiable hunger, but felt wrong about touching another man, seemed so absurd that I laughed out loud, startling him.  
"What is so funny?" he demanded, looking at me accusingly. I'd ruined his story.  
"You." I brought my face close to his. The smell of blood tingled in my veins and so did his intense gaze. The urge to kiss him overwhelmed me and I drew back instead of closer. Forcing his hand would do nothing good. "Let's go, the night is still young."  
Without waiting for him I jumped up and continued our way. It took a while before I heard his distinctive footfalls. Apparently I had shaken him up quite a bit. I wasn't sure if I felt guilty about that. There was a certain vulnerability in him, an innocence even now he'd met and conquered death, that I didn't want to destroy right away. Time would do that for me soon enough._  
"I apologize."  
The sudden words in my ear make me jump and I whip around. "Done dancing already?" I say acridly.  
"I apologize," he says again, looking positively meek.  
"For what?"  
He just looks at me and my anger seeps away. However there is no need for him to notice that, so I impatiently tap my foot and fold my arms across my chest.  
"For somehow insulting you beyond measure." He pauses uncertainly. "Though I don't understand why."  
"You don't understand my father. Or me. Or anything. You're just so wrapped up in your fairy tale world that there's no room for reality. He's not the good but sad king from Snow White's tale; I'm not the handsome prince Charming to save the day." I snort and turn away from him, frustrated that my emotions got the better of me.  
The hand on my shoulder is oddly comforting and I look at it, his strong fingers, immaculately manicured and with dark hairs on the knuckles. I long for its caresses and close my eyes to focus on the weight and pressure on my skin.  
"Are you really saying this is all real?" he says softly, his free hand sweeping in a gesture that encompasses the dancing hordes. "Empresses from times ere, princes dressed in clothes centuries old, foot folk mingling with nobility... Are you saying this is reality? Death has no power here; the only thing left is love."  
The passion in his voice makes me turn around in amazement. His eyes sparkle with the proof of what he just said. So different from Father.  
"It's not love," I mutter out of habit. "It's hunger."  
"Then let us feast." Ludwig grabs my face in both hands and kisses me with abandon.  
_It took us another nine days for the last leg of the journey. Neither he nor I sought to physically approach one another, though he didn't recoil from any accidental touches. He did however allow me to talk, rather than just listen.  
At first I was wary of talking about myself. There was no need for him to get that close to me and I fed him stories about travels I have made over the past centuries. He never asked anything, not with words. The glittering inquiries in his eyes however would slowly draw out more personal accounts and because he seemed utterly without judgment, I caught myself opening up further than I had planned.  
"I hated it, at first," I said quietly, staring down on the dead girl. "It was so far beneath me, something so animalistic, more animalistic than making love even. Than mating." I wiped the blood from my chin and slid my glance up his legs, higher and higher but never high enough to meet his eyes.  
"I tried to go without, but nothing is more impossible than that. Not even celibacy." I let out a humorless chuckle. That was one of the easier things, now. "For a while I saw it as a necessary evil, but later... If it's inevitable, you might as well learn to enjoy it."  
I prodded the corpse with my foot. If I had been allowed to live properly to an age where things like marriage and offspring really mattered, I might've applied that philosophy to women as well.  
"Do you?" he asked, barely audible.  
"Enjoy it? Sometimes." I saw the question in his eyes. "With you, definitely."  
His body expressed ambivalence and I let it drop more than gladly. It felt more intimate than talking about preferences in bed. It took away some of the humanity I thought I would be glad to be rid of by now. I wasn't like Father, after all, clinging to the past, to what had been and would never, ever come back.  
"Come on. Not far now."_  
When he lets go of me, I am actually out of breath. So is he, but since he has been undead for such a short time, that worries me less than my own exasperation. His dark eyes are so chockfull of emotions that they start to spill over. Shocked, I take a step back, and he drops his head, clenching his fists.  
"It's not wrong," I stammer, my voice wavering beyond recognition. "Don't be ..." Don't be what? What was haunting him now? I realize I haven't gotten to know him at all over the past months. I only knew his favorite fairy tales.  
"Don't be a duckling, be a swan," I say then, a hint of desperation echoing in my words. All my anger and resentment have melted away in the warmth of his embrace. I don't want to lose him now.  
He looks up, his eyes still brimming with tears.  
"You are the most magnificent swan I've ever seen," I continue hopefully.  
Suddenly his face breaks open in a smile I've never seen before. He throws his arms around me and lifts me clean off the flagstones, laughing, twirling me around.  
"My prince," he says affectionately and he kisses me lightly on the lips. "This is the finest ball I have ever attended."  
"Next year is going to be even better," I promise him.


End file.
